


Indulged in Crimson

by poisonmask



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abduction, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Drug Use, Emotional Manipulation, Flirting, Graphic Description of Corpses, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, M/M, Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Moaning, Murder, Possessive Behavior, Serial Killers, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Threesome - M/M/M, temporarily unrequited lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:55:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29789514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poisonmask/pseuds/poisonmask
Summary: Seth had only gone to get a project done with his partners for university. He hadn't expected the sickening turn of events that would occur, or the bloody carnage evolving before his eyes. And it's even more terrifying when the serial killers don't seem to leave you alone.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Indulged in Crimson

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. Long one shot, longer than I had intended. But please make sure to check the tags before starting. I might continue and experiment with this universe soon, so thank you for the support!

_Seth didn’t know how the evening ended up like this._

Pinned down to the ground, tears streaming down his cheeks as that monster loomed over him, pinning his outstretched arm to the ground. Hot breath dancing across the skin on his exposed neck, wincing in terror when the assailant hummed deeply, tasting the metallic liquid smeared across his lips. The stench of blood that flooded the library, painting the floor and walls like an artist's canvas. Seth didn’t dare look. The bodies, strewn out across the floorboard like discarded waste, crooked and chopped up like they hadn’t been living and breathing mere minutes ago, made his stomach churn and threaten to cough up his own guts.

The blood soaking his own clothes were heavy, and he was aware of it against his skin, wanting nothing more than to scrub the uncomfortable feeling that dug under his sensitive nerves, sobs catching in his throat.

“Can’t you do anything to shut him up?”

The man’s eyes flashed in a bitter glare, leant casually against the library table with a bloodied cloth tangled in his hands, wringing his stained fingers. Raven black hair dangled in front of his face, the roots dyed a bright red which only seemed to darken his deep brown pupils, ones filled with intensity that made Seth whimper whenever he fell victim to his gaze. Black shirt that hung loosely around his broad frame, the first few buttons popped open and tucked into dress pants — the man looked like a model, but despite his calm and collected aura, he was completely insane.

The figure straddling the poor boy’s waist looked up, bloody lips curled up into a twisted grin. “But his adorable voice gets me all riled up, you know that.”

Seth whimpered, squirming abruptly from underneath him in a desperate attempt to escape and somehow push him off, but his inhuman strength was no match for his feeble efforts.

“I mean, look at him—” The figure grabbed a handful of his wavy locks and snapped his head back, pain spreading throughout his skull. “—isn’t he so cute all helpless like this?”

_Seth didn’t know how the evening ended up like this._

He remembered his friend’s faces, greeting him with toothy smiles as he pulled back the chair, the wooden legs scraping loudly across the floorboards. He’d placed an order of starbucks, on the table where the second killer was making himself comfortable, one lighting up with excited giggles and the other nodding her head silently. They thanked him profusely, taking their respective orders as he gently seated himself.

“So,” Flora reminisced, her pink hair swaying her shoulders. “How much did you manage to get done? Because if I’m being honest, I did absolutely nothing.”

The dark skinned girl behind her waved a hand airily, black hair tightly braided across her skull. “Nothing.”

Seth felt his brows sink, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly. His hands instinctively tightened around the folder on his lap, which was teeming with packs of paper stuffed into plastic wallets, labelled with colourful sticky notes that were marked with neat, precise handwriting. He felt a little embarrassed, having done so much compared to his work partners, but it’s not like he had the strength in himself to lie about it. He liked to work. His apartment was quiet, devoid of any other human life but his, and though it wasn’t as spacious as any other places he had been more accustomed too, he was content with his humble abode for the time being. Until he finished his university course, Seth didn’t really mind the quality of his living conditions. He pulled the folder from his lap and gently settled it down onto the table, pushing it timidly towards them.

Flora’s eyes widened, pushing a strand of hair from her eyes as she reached forward, and greedily snatched the folder into her arms. Seth jolted forward in surprise.

“C-Careful, some of the wallets are loose—”

“Oh, Seth! You’re a _lifesaver!_ I knew our project would be amazing if we had you!” She marvelled with a glimmering shine in her emerald eyes, flipping the cover open and squealing in delight at the construction paper with white, sketchy lines covering them, and packs of neat writing to accompany it. Truth be told, Seth had spent most of his working nights finishing off as much as he could, since he had harshly judged his partners when they had been put together. Flora seemed a little spacey, and Nia didn’t look like she took university seriously enough. She always seemed so stoic and unapproachable, and Seth would be lying if he said her large frame and unfriendly aura didn’t indimitate him.

His hands nervously folded into his lap, nestling comfortably in some feeble attempt to ease himself. “Did you really not start anything?”

Flora glanced upwards, her smile faltering for a moment. She seemed to brush her sudden change in attitude off by giving him a strained chuckle. “No, I didn’t. But we can split the work now. Me and Nia will complete the practical part of the project with the notes you’ve given us. It’ll all be fine, we can get it done easy peasy.”

Seth hardly believed that. He squeezed his fingers, eyes falling down to the table as he deflated against the seat, a little annoyed at her logic. “B-But our lecturer is grading us _all._ The practical side of the project is worth sixty percent, I-I can’t just _skip_ it.”

Flora blew a loud raspberry, which snapped a few heads towards their table in disapproval, but she didn’t seem to care about their sharp glares at all as she giggled at his incompetence. “Seth, stop worrying about it. How’s the old man gonna know who did which bit? We all worked on it together, now, didn’t we?”

“That’s not how it—”

“Hush, now,” she waved a hand, toothy grin returning to her face, and although he didn’t particularly like it, it did shut him up. She disappeared under the table for a moment, and when she shot back up, so did her bag, dumping it on top of his folder without care or some consideration of the work he had spent so much time on. “You wanna be helpful? More so than you already have, that is…”

She stuffed her hand into the pristine handbag, pulling out a thick purse she had filled with useless receipts and coupons, some even out of date. She tossed him a five pound note, which drew a quiet sigh from his mouth, knowing she was asking for more errands off him.

“...there’s a shop just five minutes down the road. Be a dear and buy us some chocolate? Obviously I’m paying, since you were so kind and bought us all drinks on the way.”

Seth gave her a brief glance, her bright green ones staring right back with a beaming smile, which he found himself powerless too. He solemnly took the money, Flora’s excited squeals and thank you’s erupting once more earning a forced smile from him, nodding his head. He left his bag dangling from the seat, carefully pushing it under the table, and taking his hot chocolate. They had been poured into takeout cups, so Seth didn’t mind walking and drinking on the way there, he thought it might do him a world of good to ease the frustration he could feel building up in the back of his throat. _Why did he have to be such a pushover?_

“I won’t be long,” he told them softly, and he merely got a few goodbyes from behind his back as he left their table with haste. God, just being with those two gave him a frightful migraine, he didn’t understand why his damned lecturer would team them all up together to work on such an important project. He felt silly, and ashamed of himself. He’d gotten so carried away he didn’t even think to check if they had made any progress, and ended up handing them a perfect grade they would just procrastinate off. Why were all the people he knew like this? He should stand up for himself for once, instead of giving people a chance to walk all over him like this. He could go and talk to his lecturer, but he was worried that would only make matters worse, and Seth didn’t consider himself a snitch. It was unhonourable and a cheap way to come out on top.

Seth hadn’t noticed he had slammed into someone until a hiss of pain left a strangers lips, and he had to steady himself from the momentum that had thrown him back. His cup clattered to the floor, and his eyes shot upwards to the chest soaked with his hot chocolate, apologies bubbling from his lips before he could even process the situation.

“I-I’m so sorry,” he blurted out, head turning to try and find something to wipe the stranger's clothes down with. “I wasn’t looking where I was going, p-please forgive me.”

The stranger waved a hand, stepping back to clear the space between him and step out of the puddle underneath them that had formed. “Woah, woah, it’s okay, little guy. No need to apologise.”

He briefly glanced down to his ruined shirt, lips curling into an awkward smile.“It’s just a shirt, after all.”

Seth’s cheeks burned in embarrassment, pulling his hands back as he fumbled to step backwards as well, bending down to shakily pick up his dirtied cup. He could feel eyes burning into the back of his skull, heightened whispers from the witnesses gossiping about the foolish clumsiness he had exhibited, ruining a handsome man’s clothes like that. He just wanted to leave and forget any of this had happened. The stranger was taller than him, a mop of tousled brown hair framing his forehead and oval shaped face, his beautiful blue eyes that flickered across his shirt, and occasionally up to Seth. He didn’t seem bothered at all, rather nonchalant about the mess, his lips pulling into a kind smile that eased Seth’s initial terror. _Usually people got mad, why wasn’t he?_

“Still, I-I ruined your clothes. I can pay for them, i-if you need,” he blubbered, his voice still laced with distress. “I’m so sorry, sir.”

“Elijah,” the stranger chuckled. “Call me Elijah. Sir makes me feel _old.”_

“I’m sorry.”

“Again, you don’t need to apologise.”

“I-I’m sorry!” Seth bit his tongue desperately to try and stop himself from apologising for his apology, cheeks burning in embarrassment as his head dipped, hair sliding from his shoulders and swaying softly in the air. The tightness in his was chest growing, those scorching pin pricks digging into every inch of his skin on his small body, and Seth just wanted this mortifying encounter to be over as soon as possible. Elijah glanced at him, hand gently resting on his shoulder to try and comfort him, but when Seth instinctively flinched and pulled away, his hand drew back to his side, and he merely smiled when they made eye contact.

“There’s coffee on your shirt too. There’s plenty of tissues in the break room, we can clear it up in there,” the stranger informed him, motioning over his shoulder to what Seth assumed was the place he was talking about, but that didn’t stop the frown from appearing on his face.

“Break room?” He asked hollowly. Elijah gave a firm nod.

“Yeah. I work here, actually, so getting in is kinda...easy. It’s locked up now, but I keep the keys on me.” To prove his point, he reached into the pocket of his trousers, and jangled the silver keys pinched between his two fingers. “Wanna come?”

Forget those two. Seth was ready to follow this guy anywhere if it meant staying with him for a little bit longer. There was an aura coming from him that Seth didn’t quite understand, but one that made him feel comfortable, and at ease, even if he _had_ just tipped all of his drink over him, which he reckoned stung a little. With a quiet nod, Seth succumbed to the warm feeling in his chest — which he assured himself was _not_ from the beverage — delighted to see Elijah’s face beam.

“Good, good,” his gaze altered. “Come on. I promise it won’t be long. You look like you were in a hurry, anyway.”

Seth had to jog a little to catch up to him as he sped off toward the break room, keeping himself close to his side to avoid bumping into passer byers. Elijah gave him a brief glance, but had turned back to focus on where he was walking soon enough, an inconspicuous side eye Seth himself hadn’t observed and processed. They didn’t speak a word as Elijah pulled the door open, ushering Seth inside, who quickly obliged, and hurried forwards. He turned to watch as the brown haired man closed the door behind him, clicking loudly to indicate the metal had slotted into its rightful place.

Elijah moved past him, dumping the keys on the table and grabbing tissues from the countertop, beginning to dab them against his stomach.

“Help yourself.”

Seth did just that, pulling a few tissues from the box, and gazing down at his clothes. They weren’t particularly dirty, not as much as Elijah’s. He had a few blotches every now and then, but nothing worth having to wipe down with. A frown formed on his face, but regardless, he scrubbed the tissue across his shirt.

“I meant to ask,” Elijah piped up, prompting him to glance upwards in interest. “Have we met before? Because I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere, I’m just...not sure where.”

Seth froze, his eyes catching Elijah’s for a fraction of a second, before he tore them away. He merely gave a shrug. “I-I’ve never seen you before.”

He was sure he would remember, and though his head dipped back down to continue with stains, the man didn’t seem to take that as an indication he was finished.

“It’s like… _right_ there, you know? I can’t put my finger on it.”

When Seth didn’t answer, Elijah merely stared at him, as if weighing up the discerning thoughts in his head, and his fingers suddenly snapped sharply in realisation.

“Newspaper!” Seth flinched. “Your name wouldn’t be _Seth Lee_ , by any chance, would it? That’s where I know you from, I’m sure of it. I read that there was this big scandal, something to do with you being the heir to your mothers company after she died.”

_No. No. It’s not me. It wasn’t me._

“Some people even rumoured the father killed her and covered it up. And you, you disappeared, vanished out of thin air. The police who went looking for you did too.”

_It wasn’t my fault. It wasn’t me. I didn’t run, I’m right here._

“Seth?”

He head jolted upwards, snapping him out of his daunting thoughts. His eyes shakily lifted up to his, and though he could feel his hands shaking, he was still able to force a smile. A natural, gentle smile, as if nothing was wrong.

“Oh, my name _is_ Seth. But it’s Seth Hargreves. It is a mere coincidence, I’m afraid. But I do get mistaken for him a lot,” he explained, swallowing the dry lump in the back of his throat,” I think it’s the hair.”

Elijah was quiet for a moment, lips parted, eyelids blinking rapidly, before he seemed to come to his senses, jolting back into reality as if he had been ripped from it. “Oh, I’m so sorry. That must’ve been so rude.”

He lightly smacked his face, awkwardly chuckling to stifle his clear embarrassment. “Of course, I’m sorry. I must’ve sounded _crazy.”_

Seth waved a hand, dismissing his notions with a smile. _This was the first person who had ever recognised him in years._ He spun around on his heel, eyes frantically trying to find the bin, which he made towards swiftly once he had caught sight of it. The tissues fell into the dark pit, the plastic lid clanging shut, as well as the rattling of a doorknob from his right.

“Shit,” Elijah cursed, prying his hands from the door they had previously entered through. “Doors jammed again. It does this a lot.”

Seth instinctively looked away when he noticed Elijah’s head turn towards him, hands nervously fiddling with his fingers by his chest, a growing uneasiness crawling up the skin on his spine, pin pricks against his chest that made his lungs constrict in terror. Perhaps he was just being paranoid, but Seth was keen to leave. Now that his only exit was taken away from him, his sudden sense of confinement vanished into thin air, and Elijah seemed to notice.

“Hey, I’m not up to something shady, or anything,” he tried to confide, his lips curling into an apologetic frown. “It’ll unstick itself in a few minutes, promised.”

Seth once again didn’t answer, lingering by the bin since he didn’t feel comfortable being stuck in a room with a stranger, a stranger that prodded far too much into his personal business. He seemed kind enough, but so did a lot of people in Seth’s life who had fucked him over.

“You like ABBA?”

That piqued his interest, staring at him with confusion. “Huh?”

Elijah motioned towards him, seeming keen to change the subject. “ABBA. You have a little band around your wrist.”

Seth made a noise of realisation, lifting his arm up to the rubber band wrapped around his wrist, having completely forgotten it was still attached to him. “Oh, I don’t actually know them. A friend gave it to me. He...recently moved away with his partner, so…”

He trailed off, ending his explanation with a stiff shrug. Elijah hummed, hand rubbing against the back of his neck. “I mean...I have a lot of ABBA on my playlist. Do you wanna…?”

Earphones were tangled in his fingers, presenting his phone in his other hand. Seth hesitated for a moment, contemplating if this would have some sort of ulterior motive, but quickly shook those pointless thoughts off. Showing him some music wouldn’t have any ill intent, his paranoia was surely getting the better of him, right? Giving a nod, Elijah smiled kindly, untangling his headphones after a moment and plugging it into his phone. He stepped closer, as did Seth, reaching for the earphones as Elijah moved towards his ears. The two paused, almost bumping into each other.

“Ah, sorry…” Elijah attempted to push past his hands, but Seth had reached to grab them at the same time, prompting them both to chuckle at their tomfoolery. “I’ll put them in for you.”

Seth’s face flushed in embarrassed realisation, his hands drawing back to tuck the strands of his wavy hair behind his ears, allowing Elijah to gently slot them into his ears. They were a little uncomfortable, since Seth often wore big headphones instead, but after adjusting them, they rested pleasantly. He watched Elijah tap away on his phone, and after shooting him a thumbs up, which he returned a slightly more unsure one, the music began playing in his ears. It was faint, but after a few seconds it gradually grew louder, until the outside world was completely muffled, devoid of any noise. His eyes fell as he took in the swelling build up, nibbling on the bottom of his lip as he accessed the song that was playing. It sounded _old_. But he quite liked it. The familiar pitch of the chords, the bass thumping in his ears, snare drum making him instinctively blink on beat. He glanced up at Elijah, smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I like it!” He shouted over the noise, and though he couldn’t hear himself, it seemed it caught Elijah’s attention, since his head snapped up in surprise, and his face wrinkled with laughter, shaking his phone gently to indicate he was queuing up more songs. Seth nodded, eyes falling back down to the floor as he continued to immerse himself in the music. It was very _Atticus_. He could see why his old friend had liked them so much.

He’d listened to a few songs by the time he had been itching to move, fingers clasped around Elijah’s locked phone. He had occasionally watched him as he pushed abruptly at the jammed door, sometimes kicking it out of frustration. He’d turned the lock more than once, before trying again, to no avail, and returned to the countertop to make himself, what Seth assumed was, a coffee. Seth hoped they wouldn't be in there for too long. He still had the money for Flora and Nia’s snacks, his phone left untouched in the bag he had brought his stuff in, which he was sure was blowing up right now, right under their noses as they took all of his work and claimed it as if it was their own.

Seth trudged across the small room towards the door, his hands wrapping around the doorknob, giving it one hard push. It popped open, and he could feel the jutter of resistance where it was jammed, right in the bottom corner, his face lighting up in triumph at the success.

“Elijah!” He shouted giddily over the music still blasting with no mercy at full volume in his ears, the door creaking open. “I got the door unstu—”

Seth’s mouth went dry.

 _Blood._ There was so, much, blood.

He felt his eyes go wide, body slack, rooted rigidly to the floor in the doorway that led into the massacre occurring just before him, muffled by the bassy, almost cheery music playing in his ears. People were darting from bookcase to bookcase, desperately banging their closed fists on the doors that seemed keen on staying sealed shut, no matter how much they shoved and tugged. Faces contorted into terrified screams, yet all that Seth could hear was the harmonizing voices, the clear unmatch in tone sending a shudder down his spine. Bodies were a mangled, bloody mess on the floor, fingers twitching on occasion and skin ripped open jaggedly, oozing pools of liquids and flashing a gorey outlook of their internal organs, which didn’t quite resemble their usual selves either.

The colour drained from his face immediately, a masked assailant roughly pushing a young woman to the floor, climbing rabidly on top of her as she thrashed and screamed in terror. The climax of the song built up, the pitch and volume increasing as the masked killer raised the axe above his head, vocals melting and pooling together into a final chorus to carry towards the end of the song, axe slamming down into her skull. The bass and drum, the repeated swings of the axe crushing her skull to the floor.

Seth felt bile sting the back of his throat. His hand was sluggish, inching up towards one of the earbuds nestled in his ears, shaky breath escaping from his lips. His fingers brushed against the sturdy plastic, ever so slowly wedging the bud from his ear, the noises pooling in almost instantly.

There was so much screaming. People begging for their lives, crying out for their loved ones, howls of such agonising pain Seth couldn’t begin to imagine what they were going through. And he was right in the middle of it. He was so petrified with fear, his body didn’t seem to move an inch when hands rested on his shoulders, and hot breath fanned across the shell of his ear.

“You don’t want to listen. Put it back in,” Elijah purred, hand sliding from his shoulder to ease around the bud barely clasped in his fingers, pushing it back in so the horrifying noises were once again drowned out. Arms snaked around his waist, trapping him back against a firm body, one with a stained work shirt, one with a chest rumbling in laughter, one with a sly smirk dancing across his lips and crazed glint in his once glowing eyes. He needed to get out of here. He need to get away from him, from the carnage, to anywhere but with these maniacs. He tried to look away, but he felt fingers harshly dig into his jaw, and locked his head into place, making him watch these events unfold like a twisted psychopath.

The phone dropped from his hand. The headphones were abruptly yanked from ears, the music cutting off. He whipped around, elbows pushing back into his chest with all the strength he could muster, which seemed to knock Elijah back more than he had anticipated. His guard had been down, but he knew he wouldn’t get another lucky chance.

He bolted.

Cutting across the floor and towards the bookcases, dipping behind them to get out of sight. He could feel his breath hitch in his lungs, head snapping back to catch a glimpse of Elijah rushing out of the room. He made a break for it. Across the edge of the cases he ran, eyes flickering off to the side between every aisle, trying to keep an eye on the masked assailants. There had been one, but he doubted it could just be those two. There had to be more of them.

Cutting into a deeper section of literature, Seth skidded hastily onto the floor, pressing his back up against the wooden case, chest heaving up and down. The panic clouding his senses made his head dart from left to right, making sure no one had caught up to him, before he deflated with a heavy exhale. A trembling hand ran through his hair. His heart was hammering against his chest, the stench of blood and the last remaining screams of those people who had just been happily going on about their day fading. There weren’t many left. They killed almost _everyone._ And he was going to be next. Fuck, he didn’t want to die.

“ _Oh, Seth~_ ” He clamped his hands over his mouth. “Come on out, my darling. I didn’t scare you _that_ much, did I?”

The sickly sweet, almost sensuous tone bubbling at the surface his words made him want to heave his guts up. He forced himself to stay quiet, taking a timid peak around the corner. A shadow flickered across the wall, and he shot straight back around. They were going to find him. He was done for.

“Hiding from me like this will only get me excited, dear, and when I find you, I might not be able to control myself~”

_Leave me alone, leave me alone, please…_

When there was a momentary silence in the tense atmosphere, before Seth heard a clatter of tables, and a high-pitched cry of pain, which made his blood run cold.

“I’ll kill this bitch if you intend on keeping me waiting,” Elijah snapped harshly, his fingers gripping a head full of bright pink hair, arm locked around her neck in a dangerously tight hold. “But you’d want that, wouldn’t you? You let her walk all over her, and you did nothing to stop it. You know she deserves it.”

“P-Please—” There was a loud crash, the crackling of bones, and a high pitched scream. Seth felt hot tears stream down his face.

“I’ll give you to the count of three, Seth. I’m not playing around anymore.”

He peeled his hands away from his mouth, terror gripping his chest.

“One—”

_No, no, this is all my fault. What do I do? What do I do?_

“Two—”

_If I had just left when I had the chance, none of this would’ve happened._

**”Three.”**

Elijah’s expression seemed to switch in an instant, from expectancy, to terrifying frustration. Flora's lips were moving, but all she could manage was an agonsised squeak, clawing her acrylic nails against his skin. His eyes shot to her messy hair for a brief second, and his hand gripped the side of her face, in preparation to completely snap the poor girls neck, and end her pathetic life. A book came flying through the air. Elijah noticed it moving from the corner of his eyes, side stepping from its line of attack, skimming past the back of his head and thumping to the ground. His head snapped around, settling onto Seth's trembling figure, who was fumbling with another book, trying to calm himself down to make another attack. Elijah’s lip curled into a sadistic grin, and he uncurled his arms from Flora's neck, letting her drop to the floor like a pile of rocks. She wheezed painfully, struggling to catch the breath that had been taken away from her.

“Alaric. Do what you want with her. Preferably kill.”

Seth’s eyes widened, taking a frantic step backwards as Elijah began to close the distance between them. “Y-You said you wouldn’t hurt her—”

“I _never_ promised that, my dear~” Elijah purred, blood smearing the corner of his lips and staining them like filth on an artist's canvas. Seth held the book firmly to his chest as if it would protect him from the demon approaching him, but it didn’t do a single thing to falter his confident strides.

“B-But I came out—”

“That you did,” the psychopath grinned, his fingers brushing softly against Seth’s icy cold cheek. “Just like I told you to.”

More crunching, more screaming, more pleas for help. The fact that it was the voice of a familiar person made Seth’s stomach do a significant number of more churns and rolls, a strained sob catching in his throat. His felt the whirlpool of emotions in his chest break free, letting the tears roam free, weeping the grief stricken cries his body so desperately needed to release.

“Oh, darling,” Elijah cooed, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him into a tight hug, one that felt neither comforting or riddled with an evil motive. “There’s no need to cry. You’re just tired, you need to rest.”

The disappearance of an arm, though Seth had barely been able to register it with his face buried into his chest, tears dampening his clothes once again. His hands desperately clawed at Elijah's arms to stop his knees from buckling right underneath him. “Sleep, darling. I promise you’ll feel so much better when you wake up.”

Something sharp and metallic prodded against the side of Seth’s neck, and instantly alarm bells began whirring in his head. His arm instinctively lashed out, knocking the sedative from Elijah’s hand. It clattered loudly to the floor by their feet, but Seth wasted no time in focusing on the more important things. The adrenaline swiftly prompted him to roughly launch Elijah away from him, who stumbled abruptly into a bookcase, the wooden structure rattling and even spitting a few books from the top shelf. Seth was gone by the time he was ready to pursue him again, cutting towards the double doors of freedom, smudged with bloody handprints, that Seth opted to ignore for the moment.

He took no notice of Flora's body, or the masked man stood over her, or the thundering footsteps clipping at his heels; he was too focused on the door. His escape. His paradise. His freedom. He could reach it, he could get out, he was going to—

A body tackled him to the floor, their body slamming into his rib cage and stripping all the air from his lungs. A series of strangled grunts emanated in the back of his throat as he rolled across the floor, coming to an abrupt stop when a pair of hands pushed against his shoulders, and a weight settled on his lower back. Seth lashed out, kicking his feet and trying to ensure Elijah didn’t latch onto his wrists, which he found he was beaten in rather easily. One arm twisted uncomfortably behind his back, the other pinned to the floor above his head. His cheek was pressed against the blood stained floor, letting out a choked huff of disgust at the stench it produced.

“I like it when my prey runs, because it can _never_ outrun me,” Elijah grunted, sucking in an unsteady breath through his teeth. The knock against the book case seemed to have winded him, and it was unbelievable he had made such a recovery and caught up to him like that. Seth’s body trembled in terror underneath him, loud sobs escaping his quivering lips as he blubbered an assortment of apologies and pleas under his breath, which Elijah took no notice of. Instead came the masked assailant, heavy duty boots thumping against the floor as he gave a deep sigh, slipping the mask from his face. It had been white, stained with splotches of crimson mess, two thick, black slits as the eyes. His face was stoic, expression hardened, though the crinkle of his brows as he turned towards Elijah didn’t look good at all.

“Go on then,” the masked murderer advised, carelessly dropping the mask down on the table, where Seth’s file was laid out, alone. He held a dirtied cloth in his hands, unfolding it carefully without taking his eyes off the other male. “Explain this fucking brat you were so god damn interested in. We don’t have much time until we need to leave.”

Elijah’s brow rose, snort catching in his throat. “I told you about him already, you—”

“Please just let me go,” Seth cut in with a desperate plea, frantically writhing against his iron grip, clamped around his frail wrists,” please, please, I-I won’t say anything, I _swear_ , just please don’t hurt me!”

The black and red haired male gave a scowl, his eyes closing in annoyance as he crossed his arms over his chest and leant against the table behind him. “Can’t you do anything to shut him up?”

Elijah merely flashed him a deranged grin. “But his adorable voice gets me all riled up, you know that. I mean look at him, Alaric—”

Seth’s head was abruptly yanked backwards, a fistful of his dark locks in Elijah’s fist, crying out in pain. “—isn’t he so cute, all helpless like this?”

“You were just telling him to _shut up_ over there,” the man named Alaric growled, eyes narrowing ferociously.

“Oh no, I don’t like it when he _cries._ But when he _begs_ ,” Elijah’s eyes rolled to the back of his skull, a lewd moan escaping his lips. “God, it makes me harder than you can imagine."

“There’s no way I would _ever_ imagine that, you freak.”

“ _Point is_ ,” Elijah huffed, swiftly directing their conversation back onto the right path, keeping Seth’s head by his hair and tracing his finger softly against his jaw, the skin burning where he touched. “This is Seth _Lee_. If I had any say in it, darling, I would not have chosen a name like Hargreaves. It's so ugly. Does't suit your pretty little face at all.”

His eyes settled back onto Alaric. “He’s the son of Robert Lee, who I know you’ve heard of.”

“Big shot CEO, stop with the clarifications, and _cut to the chase_.”

“Alright, pipe down. I told you about that big article published in the newspaper, the one dated a few years back. Robert’s wife mysteriously died, and their only son,” Elijah yanked harshly at Seth’s hair to make a point. “Disappeared without a trace. But I know exactly what happened.”

His hot breath once again brushed against his ear, but Seth wasn’t in a position to fight back, only able to let loose a feeble sob of pain at the disgusting shiver it sent down his spine. “Your parents abused you. And one day, your mother hurt herself. She was vulnerable. And you _murdered_ her.”

“ **No!** "

“ _Yes_ , my dear,” Elijah uttered, a delighted edge to his sick tone. “Same with those cops who started sniffing around. You got scared, and killed them too. And then you ran.”

Seth violently kicked his legs, screwing his eyes shut and desperately trying to worm out of his grasp. He hated that word. It made his chest sink, regret crawl under his skin, it made him feel **dirty.** Terrified tears gushed down his face once more. “ _I didn’t do it! I didn’t! It wasn’t my fault!”_

He screamed out until his voice went raw, until his vocal chords could no longer produce any discernible noise or words. He struggled and thrashed under Elijah's impossible tight grasp, until his muscles ached desperately, unable to move another inch. He felt so _scared._ He was useless...

“So? What are you proposing with this information?” Alaric growled. “We planned to use him for ransom. Call his father to get his missing son back.”

Seth opened his mouth to fight back, to beg them not to call his father, but the words refused to leave his lips. _He wanted to go home_. Seth gave out, his body going limp. _He wanted to leave._ Elijah pulled away from Seth’s ear, head snapping towards an agitated looking Alaric. “No, you fucking idiot, I want to take him with us.”

The intimidating man shook his head almost instantly. “Fuck no. What’s that gonna do for us except waste food with another mouth to feed?”

“Because,” Elijah grinned, flashing his teeth as a bright glint gleamed in his eyes. One that suggested he had one spectacular show. “I want to kill Robert Lee. And his son—”

He let his head drop to the floor with a bang, which Seth responded to by wheezing helplessly. His energy levels depleted in mere seconds as he struggled to fill his burning lung with air, hair sprawling messily across his face. “—is going to help us do it.”

It was all fuzzy. Exhaustion was a horrible thing, it made him want to disappear, cry, and give up on resisting all at once. He didn’t react to his fathers name, nor the onslaught of brutish memories that plagued his mind, he merely fell slack when Elijah grabbed his shoulder and pushed him onto his back, hands resting on either side of his head. His heavy eyes sluggishly gazed over to the needle Elijah was sadistically presenting in front of him, which he knew resembled that sedative from before.

“Are you tired, baby boy?” Elijah chuckled, fingers brushing affectionately through his hair, pulling it back from his face. “I promise you'll be able to rest soon. You just have to be obedient, and not resist it.”

The hazy figure of Alaric pooled into view, staring down at him with a heated glare, but Seth couldn’t find it in himself to feel frightened. These guys knew everything about him. Everything he had worked to keep hidden. Everything hideous that he hated about himself. A stray tear trickled down his cheek at the sheer exposure and disgust he felt, even more so when Elijah bent down to press his tongue against his skin, stifling the tear before it could hit the ground. That same sharp prodding pressed into his throat, and this time there was a prick of pain, and Seth knew that there was no going back now.

He was right in the palm of their hands.

Seth didn’t even fight the drug as it began punching through, his head rocking to the side slightly as his glazed eyes focused on the blurriness clouding his vision, a bitter cold darkness swirling the depths of his mind and lulling him into a sweet slumber.

It was nice. Seth, in his final moments, felt somewhat at ease.

And he was okay with that.


End file.
